


when you learn the cost of desire

by Ravenspear



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Dark, F/M, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenspear/pseuds/Ravenspear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not penance if the punishment is something you <em>desire</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you learn the cost of desire

Raphael's hands are vicious, taloned things, and they are sharp and awful when she digs them into Gabriel's wings, aiming to hurt and succeeding; crushing and tearing and ripping.

And Gabriel takes it, because he agrees when she hisses "worthless, _selfish_ traitor" into his ear, knows that he deserves every torment she could ever imagine for him, knows that he failed her - failed _all_ of them, all his brothers - because he was weak, and young, and a coward.

"Yes," he whispers, admits to her every accusation, confesses each and every vile little sin he's ever committed to her, and doesn't flinch away when she metes his punishment out in rent skin, broken bones, blood spatters, and screaming Grace.

"Yes," he whispers, because the skin of her hands is bare against his, soft and warm, even as they hurt him, and the pleasure he takes from that - from her closeness, from that sense of _home_ and _family_ he's missed for so long, from the beauty that is his sister's body - that pleasure is another sin, far more contemptible and disgusting than anything he's ever done on Earth.

It is the worst kind of sin, that he enjoy his punishment, that he takes what should be penance and twists it into something filthy and base. That he feels his sister's castigating fingers on him, meant for purification, and instead dirties her by reducing it to something vulgar, to _lust_.

"You're _sick_ ," Raphael spits at him, disgust in her eyes as she takes him in, and he can imagine what she sees (him, tears on his cheeks, grief in his eyes, but panting and heaving wantonly, his cock hard and leaking between his legs), and what she must feel to see it (wrath, shame, revulsion, pity). "You _enjoy_ this. You _want_ me to do this."

And when she takes her hands from him, he collapses, falls to the floor, and he weeps (but doesn't try to stop her, doesn't grab hold of her and never let go, because for all his want, he deserves no comfort from her).

"How can you have become so debased, brother?" Raphael demands, fury personified, and Gabriel is sure he can feel her fire licking at his skin, but doesn't dare to look up from the floor, because if he sees her like that, me might need to touch her, and he is not allowed. "You have taken _everything_ about yourself that used to be beautiful, and you have sullied it between the legs of _whores_." Her hand is sharp and unrelenting as she fists it in his hair, drags him to his knees and tilts his head back to meet her eyes. "You sad, filthy thing," she murmurs, and it's almost gentle, except there is a slant to her mouth that is not kind, and her eyes are dark in a way he can't remember them to ever have been.

"Raphael?" he breathes, because her hand is on him, her Grace touching his, and she shouldn't be touching him, shouldn't let him dirty her. And he definitely shouldn't let her keep doing it, but _oh father please just a few seconds more and I'll pull away just a few seconds more_.

And she's leaning down, and he can't breathe, this can't be happening, she can't do this, but he wants her to and he _needs_ and her lips are so close and-

" _I hate you_ ," she hisses, words almost a kiss so close they are, and she's so _honest,_ it hits him like razorblades in his heart.

Raphael smiles, and it is perfect beauty. "Ah. I see we are getting somewhere."


End file.
